The Sword and the Shield
by YinYangSisters
Summary: ONE SHOT. Sokka remembers the day she was born like it was yesterday. They're a team, their parents had told them - she was the sword, the great power they had been waiting for. And he is the shield, because there's no point in fighting unless you have something to protect. A sibling fic, dedicated to my own older brothers - mild pairings - Tokka, Zutara - strong language in parts.


Usually, when it comes to Avatar, I'm totally Zutara-centric; but I wanted to try something a little different. In my fics, I barely ever talk about Sokka or anything concerning him, so I wanted to mix things up and do something in his POV. Having grown up with two older brothers, I'm eager to take up the challenge. I think it'll be fun to portray the big brother, being the little sister myself :)

I tried to keep as close to the Avatar story line as possible...except for a little twist at the end. ;)

Hope you enjoy, leave a review!

- Yin

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

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**The Shield, the Sword**

He remembered every little detail of the day she was born.

The Tribe women went into a total frenzy, pulling his mother away into the healing hut after she placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. He heard her scream and was immediately alarmed; it was scary, hearing your mother scream like that when you're two years old. His father then hauled him up into his strong arms, telling him not to worry, though his face portrayed something a little different.

The entire Tribe was buzzing, so impatient and excited that they could barely contain themselves as they found out that Kya had gone into labour. Sokka knew something had been changing about his mother these past few months, but he wasn't totally sure what it was. All he knew was that whatever it was, it had to be good; people showered them with gifts and toys and every present under the sun, so Sokka was plenty occupied.

To two year old Sokka, it felt like his mother was in that tent for a lifetime; his father tried to occupy them both. Eat something, play a little, walk around the Tribe to try to and take their minds off of Kya's occasional screams. But Sokka didn't want to leave at all; he didn't want to eat, play, or take a walk or be tickled by his Gran Gran. He waited outside of the tent, sitting cross legged on the ground like the loyal son he was, watching over his mother.

Hakoda soon realized any effort to distract his infant son was futile; he sat next to him, pulling him onto his lap.

They waited.

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His mother's screaming stopped a while ago; a new kind of screaming was heard.

"You can come inside now, Sokka," Gran Gran said softly with a smile. She took his hand, leading him into the tent slowly; he followed apprehensively, frightened to see what had hurt his mother so. "We want you to meet someone."

His mother lied in a thick sleeping mat, hair a mess, her same, beautiful smile broad and loving, growing at the sight of him; his father stood beside her, smiling at him in a way Sokka hadn't seen before. Different shades of blue blankets covered her, and she was holding something. Whatever it was, it was small; tiny, in fact, since Sokka couldn't even see it from where he was standing. He hid behind his Gran Gran in terror, because he was too afraid to let himself see.

"Come here, sweetie," his mother whispered in her satin-like voice, coaxing him easily. "Come see your sister."

Sokka didn't know what a 'sister' was; whatever it was, it was _his_. He slowly walked to his mother's out-stretched arm, clutching it, allowing her to pull him up onto her sleeping mat with her. He felt a little better with his mother's arm wrapped around her, like it should be; he could feel his father kneel down beside him closely, wrapping his arm around him, too.

And Sokka saw it; or, rather, _her_.

She was tiny, smaller than tiny, the smallest person Sokka had ever seen before; she shared his skin, and had these huge blue eyes that his mother had, too. She had some tiny tufts of dark hair, that was like his. She was looking up at him like he was the first thing she had ever seen, like she had never seen something so amazing, like he was the first thing to exist; she shuffled in the blankets wrapped around her, small, chubby hands springing free.

"This is your baby sister, Sokka," his mother whispered softly into his ear. "She's your baby; she needs you. She needs you to look after her, to protect her. She needs her big brother to help her, to keep her safe. She loves her big brother the most."

He stared.

"Do you want to hold her, son?" Hakoda said gently into Sokka's other ear.

He didn't reply, so his parents decided for him; they held Sokka steadily before placing the baby into his arms. She was a lot heavier than she looked, Sokka soon came to realize, but she was very warm, which he liked, since warmth in the South Pole never went unappreciated. She gurgled in his arms; Sokka reached out to touch her, make sure she was real.

She grabbed his thumb and didn't let go; they stared at each other.

"Her name is Katara." his father said to him slowly.

Kah...tah-rah," Sokka sounded slowly, quietly. "Kat-tah-ra."

Sokka didn't know much about 'Katara'; all he knew was that she was small, but very, very heavy, warm, fidgety, and had very big blue eyes. He knew that his parents told him to be careful with her, that the Tribe had been waiting for her, that she sort of looked a little like him in a very, very strange way. He knew that she cried a lot, that she needed to be taken care of all the time, that she couldn't even say any words yet.

But none of that mattered, because he was her big brother, and she needed him to take care of her.

He smiled timidly at the responsibility; his fingers enclosed around her tiny fist.

"You're a team, Sokka." his mother whispered into his ear.

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"Soh...kah."

Kya almost dropped the dishes; Hakoda _did_ drop one dish. They spun to look at their infant daughter, clapping her hands in glee at her brother; Sokka sat next to her in the middle of the tent, gaping at her, various toys scattered around the room. The entire tent was in total silence, apart from Katara's laughs as they just stared at her in shock, awe, happiness. Sokka's smile erupted furiously.

"That's _me_!" Sokka cried, pointing to himself. "Th-That's _my_ name!"

Katara laughed, belting the word. "Soh-kah! Soh-kka! SOKKA!"

Sokka danced and cheered; Katara laughed and clapped. Kya leant against her husband, her smile just as large as his.

Their children laughed; the world was perfect.

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Sokka only started to understand what his parents meant only a few years after Katara's birth; taking care of Katara didn't mean sitting next to her and playing with her. It didn't mean watching her when their parents left the room for a brief second, or sharing his biscuits with her even when he didn't want to, or making her a snow toy because sometimes, his mother wouldn't let her out like she'd let him.

They had recently found out that Katara was a _waterbender. _

Sokka didn't understand at first; he knew that there earthbenders, firebenders, and some waterbenders at their sister Tribe, but he didn't know that there could be waterbenders in _his_ Tribe. After all, he hadn't seen any; Gran Gran said there used to be many waterbenders in their Tribe, but the Fire Nation took them away because they didn't like them.

And then, Sokka started to understand why everyone was also afraid of this news, of why everyone celebrated, but also worried at the same time. He understood why his parents became so cautious of him and his sister, of why his father and the other warriors were going away so often, of why the Tribe started to build a small stash of supplies so that they wouldn't have to leave the South Pole unnecessarily, or why his mother made sure he and Katara didn't leave the tent after dark without a grown up.

His baby sister, Katara, was a waterbender; it meant that the Fire Nation didn't like her, either.

It meant that they might try and take her, too.

But Sokka didn't think anything of it; he understood, of course he did, even explained to his mother and father that it was okay, that they didn't have to be afraid anymore, that none of the village did. Hakoda and Kya looked at each other, and then at their 6 year old son; 4 year old Katara fell asleep on her brother's lap, sucking her thumb and Sokka patted her head gently, trying to control his cringe as his sister drooled on him.

"And why's that, son?" Hakoda asked slowly.

"There's no point being afraid," Sokka said simply, smiling. "No one can take Katara if I'm here. The village doesn't have to be scared; I'm her big brother. I won't let anyone take her."

The couple smiled at their son, at their daughter.

Believe it or not, but they actually slept a little better.

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"You're the sword of the village, sweetie," Hakoda laughed, hoisting the giggling Katara upon his shoulders. She grabbed fistfuls of her father's hair as she laughed with him, even though she didn't know what a sword was. "You're what we've been waiting for!"

Sokka scowled, because he knew what a sword was; it was a weapon, and it had power. It was the useful of tool of the lot; well, maybe not boomerangs. But still, they were useful; Sokka knew enough to know that most warriors go out to fight, they take swords with them. He pouted, because he thought he was that sword; but that right was reserved only for his sister, the waterbender.

So, what did that make him?

"Daddy," Sokka asked quietly, pulling on his father's trouser leg. "What...What am I?"

Hakoda paused, before erupting into a smile, hauling his son into his arm; he could hear Kya singing in the kitchen quaintly, turning to smile at him with a blush once she had sensed he was staring at her. Hakoda kissed Sokka's head, smiling down at him.

"You're the shield, son," he spoke confidently. "There's no point fighting if you don't have anything to protect."

Sokka blinked, before grinning.

Kya could hear them all laughing in the kitchen, a smile stretching across her face at her husband's words.

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Sokka started to understand the rules of being a warrior; his father _was_ the Chief, after all.

That meant that one day, the Tribe would go to him and Katara; usually, it wouldn't go to the female offspring too, but since Katara was a waterbender, they couldn't waste the opportunity to utilize her. If he was really honest, Sokka was a little bit jealous of her; she was getting better and better at waterbending each day, even though she had no master.

Every time she would inadvertently move some snow, melt it, or bend her soup around her dinner bowl, the whole village would gaze and swoon and clap and praise her. It made Sokka feel like he wasn't as good, like he wasn't as special; but a kiss from his mother, a hug from his father, a tickle from his Gran Gran, and an annoying hug from his sister and he was fine again.

And Katara, even though she was sometimes really annoying and boring and cranky, was actually quite a fun; she shared her dinner with him when she knew he wasn't full, or cleaned the snow off of his clothes with her bending when he snuck back into the tent past his curfew, or took the fall for his clumsiness, since she knew that their mother wouldn't scold her as badly, as she never ever broke anything herself.

He didn't mind; he loved Katara more than he was jealous of her.

They were like a team; stealing sugar buns before dinner, hiding their dirty dress clothes under the table so that their parents wouldn't find out, building better snow forts than all of the other kids (even though with Katara, they had an unfair advantage). And sometimes when it was really cold or they had a bad dream, they would climb into each other's beds, because they felt safer.

But they had it too easy.

Katara was now 7; she was walking back to her tent, since it was going to get dark within the next half hour, and she wanted to help her mother cook dinner, as she knew she had been stressed lately about their father leaving so often. Everyone said she looked more and more like her mother each day, and she would blush and smile and say thank you, because she thought her mother was the prettiest lady in the entire world, and-

Someone pushed her over from behind; hard and unforgiving, and she hit her knee and elbow painfully.

"Ow!" Katara cried, sniffling as she rolled over in the thin snow. Two boys, who were the same age as her, stood over her, glaring, making her gasp in fright; they looked so scary, standing above her like that, so tall, so mean, and she didn't know what she had done wrong. "Wh-What'd ya do that for?!"

Their eyes narrowed as she sat up, and they kicked snow in her face.

"You're going to kill the whole village!" one of them yelled at her. "My dad didn't come home because of you, because he was fighting away the Fire Nation that are coming for _you_! The _waterbender_!"

Katara blinked, lip trembling like her body. "Wh-What?"

"My dad's not coming home either!" the other cried. They kicked snow in her face again. "It's all your fault! You _killed_ them!"

"Wh-What?! No! No, I didn't mean to!" Katara wailed, bending the snow off of her face as she sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm so-"

They kept kicking snow at her, and she kept on crying and crying; when the snow stopped, Katara looked up with red eyes, sniffling, wondering why, to find Sokka standing in front of her, pushing the two boys away. The boys shivered, running away immediately at the sight of Sokka; after all, Sokka was _9 years old_, meaning that he was much too big and scary to confront.

"And if you come near my sister again, I'll tell your mothers!" Sokka cried. He quickly turned and knelt in front of the sobbing Katara, brushing the snow off of her hair and clothes. He watched her wailing with worry, feeling like he failed. "Are you okay, Katara?"

This only made her cry even harder, flinging her arms around her brothers' neck. He had never seen her cry so hard before, but it was getting dark, so he had to take her home; he hauled her onto his back, leaving her sobbing into his neck and shoulder as he returned to their tent in silence, and Sokka waited for her to calm down before asking her what those boys had said.

She looked away, sniffling. "Their daddies didn't c-come back home," she explained quietly, hiccuping. "They said it was because of me. They said I-I'll get the whole village killed! They said it's all my fault!"

Sokka watched in horror, because that was a pretty legitimate reason for pushing someone over; but not his sister. Not today, not ever; he hugged her as she started crying again and he didn't know what to say, letting her calm down again before opening his mouth to speak.

"I-I didn't mean to, Sokka!" she wailed.

"It's not your fault," Sokka said firmly into her hair. "None of it's your fault, okay? You're not going to get the village killed, you didn't kill anyone, understand?"

She nodded, he continued. "They were just being mean because their daddies left and they were upset. They were just being mean to you, saying nasty things to you because they're jealous you're a waterbender, that's all. No one's going to hurt you again. I promise."

"Pinky promise?" she asked quietly.

"Of course!" Sokka cried in total seriousness. "What's the point of a promise if it's not a pinky promise?"

A few moments later, with their pinky fingers hooked, Katara was laughing again.

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Sometimes bad things just happen.

You can't control it, and it's not your fault; it doesn't matter how much you pray to Agni, how nice a person you are, or whether you were born in the Fire Nation, The Earth Kingdom, or in either of the Water Tribes, or maybe even on the moon. Sokka is 10 years old now, and Katara is 8; he doesn't know much, but what he does know is that there are just some things that you can't change, some things that you can't correct or erase or forget.

Being a big brother wasn't enough. It meant that it didn't matter how good a big brother he was, because the Fire Nation could come after Katara regardless of what he said or did; and they did come after her. Sweet Agni, they did, alright. But Sokka learnt that day that being a big brother wasn't the only powerful strength and responsibility you could have; it wasn't the only type of grounded, immortal force that could save you.

The other was motherhood.

Sokka suspected it to be just as powerful a responsibility as that of a big brother's, and he was right; because on the day that the Fire Nation came, the day they came to take his baby sister, Katara, their mother stood in the way. Their mother, despite what she had been teaching them all their lives, had _lied_; Sokka didn't know if this was this was the reason why the Fire Nation General took her, or if it was because he believed her lie.

All he knew, was that their mother was gone.

He and Katara waited for days, for months, but she didn't come back.

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Sokka wondered how long it took to fix a broken heart; he guessed it was quite a long time, because he still cried at night, three years later.

He didn't see his father much anymore, since he was almost always away. Whenever he did come home, though, he would take one look at Sokka and Katara and walk out; at first they thought they had done something wrong, but Gran Gran said it was because they looked like their mother, and it was hard to see pieces of her in their faces, and not her herself, humming around the tent like she used to, cleaning and cooking and smiling.

At some point, it became apparent to Sokka that Katara didn't even want to see their father in the occasional chance when he came home; she barely bat an eyelid, carried on cleaning. He didn't blame her; Katara had changed quite a lot, quite a scary amount. She didn't smile or laugh like she used to. She was quiet, always looking like she was thinking about something serious. She was still nice on the inside, but something on the outside was...different. Wrong.

He worried about dinner sometimes, but not for long; Katara cooked.

The tent was in a real state occasionally, but it didn't matter; Katara cleaned.

He tore numerous holes in his clothes frequently, but not to worry; Katara sewed.

Sometimes it was hard to miss his mother, or remember what she was like, because Katara did it all herself. Sokka would always peer at her blank face, her flat expression, her vacant stare as she scrubbed the dishes expertly. Who needed a mother, when he had Katara?

But Sokka didn't like that; he didn't like how at 11 years old, Katara had single handedly filled that massive void their mother left behind, sewing together the tatters of what remained of their family like an old piece of cloth that should've been thrown away years ago.

Sokka knew now what the power of motherhood _really_ was.

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Sokka found that he was always tense nowadays.

Katara was changing, and quite obviously so; she was 13 now, and she had gotten her moon blood, as Gran Gran had explained. It meant that she was cranky and irritable and just plain scary on occasions, but still the same Katara. They even joked about it most of the time, and if he was lucky, Sokka would draw out a rare laugh from his baby sister, to which he savoured and enjoyed it whilst it lasted. When Katara laughed, the world laughed.

But that wasn't what made him so uneasy. Before, Katara had been pretty; with those big blue eyes since birth, happy smile that he sort of remembered, dainty features that were cute to coo at, adorable curly hair that their mother used to braid. But now, things were very, very different; Katara wasn't pretty anymore, not like she used to be.

Katara was now beautiful; and this was a major problem.

Beautiful meant long eyelashes, flawless caramel skin, blue eyes that made your stomach flip; beautiful meant a lean, slim body that wasn't that straight-up-and-down anymore, with long, thick curly hair accompanying it all quite well. Beautiful meant gracefulness, it meant smiles that you couldn't stop thinking about, it meant not being able to stop yourself from staring after her as she walked past.

This wasn't a problem in itself; on the contrary, Sokka was glad over this, since Katara was starting to look more and more like the faded memory he had of his mother. The more she looked like her, the less he had to remember, and the less guilty he felt every night, trying to remember what her smile looked like as she would tuck them into bed all those years ago.

The _real_ problem were the other boys of the Tribe.

Being 15 years old, Sokka wasn't a..._total_ idiot; he knew what boys were like, what they thought about. The other adolescent boys of the Tribe were careful to keep their heads down every time Katara walked past and Sokka was within 10 paces. Despite this, Sokka was still constantly irritated; he didn't like their glances, their small smirks, the way they nudged their friends and jutted the chin at his sister's retreating form.

Just as that one boy was doing right now. He and his two friends stared after her in the centre of the village as she put up some laundry, ready to bend the water from it. They caught each other's eyes, barely a year older than her, grinning, talking in a low voice that made Sokka's blood boil. Katara was, in all honestly, totally oblivious to all of this; so Sokka took the liberty of...correcting their behaviour himself.

"What was that, Krayshuk?" Sokka bellowed, standing over the trio with a frown. "Have something to say about my sister?"

"E-Er, no..." Krayshuk muttered, averting his gaze.

Sokka glared at all three of them; they shivered. "If I catch you so much as looking in the same direction as her again, just know that if the seal jerky runs out, I have another alternate in mind."

The boys blinked, retreating briskly.

Katara finally noticed her surroundings, her brother; she waved, poking out her tongue, smirking.

He did the same to her, pulling a funnier face that made her laugh; he then turned to glower at the trio one more time.

Just to be sure.

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Hope is a funny thing.

You can go through decades of your life believing you gave it all up long ago, when really, all it takes is one thing, one event, one _person_, to make you realize that that wasn't the case at all. At 16 years old, Sokka thinks that the ways things are now are probably the way things are going to be until he dies; his home, the world, the war, his sister. If he could change it, he would; by Agni, of course he would.

But it's not that easy to change the world and the people around you.

At least, not for them; for Avatar Aang, it's a different story. Or, so it should be.

They unfroze him by total accident, which ignites this silly thing called hope all over again; it didn't seem real, finding out the thing the world had been waiting for for the past 100 years was living a mere 4 miles away from your tent. It sounded stupid and ridiculous, like an attention seeking lie, but it was the truth, and neither of them could change that, which was, finally, a good thing.

The new Avatar was alive and here, ready to save the world. It only took a slight nudge from the Fire Nation's Prince Zuko to send them on their way; it feels good to be part of something bigger, to know that you might actually have the power to change something, that the most you can result to will be far more than a house wife or humble Tribal warrior.

Sokka hasn't seen Katara smile like this in a long time; they sit upon the massive sky bison for the first time, it's name being Appan, Appoh, Appojo or something like that. Katara is smiling and smiling and smiling like she's been set free, like she's feeling the breeze for the first time, like her mother didn't die 6 years ago, like she doesn't have anything eating away at her.

Her troubles flee, and so do Sokka's.

But sooner or later, surely enough, the problems are replaced with far more complicated ones.

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They start to learn a lot about Aang; what he likes, what he doesn't likes, what he's interested in, what he's not. They know that he's part of the deceased race of Air Nomads that the Fire Nation killed off, that Aang didn't even _know_ that his people had been killed off, that he hated string beans with a passion, that he liked to laugh and smile and share and look at Katara.

The latter didn't really bother Sokka as much as it should; he was only 12, after all. It was just admiration of his sister, more than anything. They'd had traveled together for so long now, it's hard not to consider each other like family, like brothers and sisters. It doesn't hit Sokka that maybe Aang doesn't think so innocently as he looks, that maybe what he feels for Katara isn't just admiration at all.

Katara, however, as always, doesn't even consider this, as the option doesn't even pass her mind; she has bigger things to worry about, anyway. Sokka learnt over the years that Katara worries enough for everyone; well, maybe not the verb _worry_, per say. She just thinks of every possibility, every outcome, every risk that could ever, in any way, be any sort of problem to the three of them at all.

So whilst Aang and Sokka joke like the brothers they are, Katara thinks, in silence. Of a certain Fire Lord. A certain Prince. A certain General. They arrive at the Northern Tribe, and she is presented with an opportunity to solve those problems. But like all things in their lives, this opportunity will not come easily to her; Sokka watches in anticipation, in anxiety.

As Katara fights Master Pakku, for the first time, he's the one worrying.

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Don't ever, _ever_ think that you have anyone figured out.

Not even your own sister.

Up until now, Katara was so, so useful. In terms of waterbending, she could dry their clothes, freeze a few soldiers here and there, and even heal them when Prince Zuko got a little too much for them on some days. They relied on her to hold the rain over their heads, so that they wouldn't catch a cold, or to stir their pot of stew when they didn't have a makeshift spoon, or maybe even make a few ice cubes on a hot day, so their water was a little more refreshing.

But now, things were very, very different.

Sokka knew that his sister was a talented bender, but he wasn't prepared for this; before, when they were under threat, he would run to her side, boomerang in hand, ready to defend her at all costs. But now, the tables turned shakily, scarily, unbelievably; at some point within these couple of weeks, Katara had gone from making ice cubes and drying clothes to taking out entire ships, healing half dead people, striking out Prince Zuko like he was a rag doll.

She was proclaimed to a man-made prodigy, which seemed ridiculous, since she couldn't even heal properly until a month ago. But here she was, mastering waterbending _and_ healing within less than two weeks, before Aang even learnt how to read the waterbending scrolls properly. Sokka would stare in confusion as she sparred, wondering if it was really his baby sister, taking out the rest of Master Pakku's students through pure boredom.

Katara had gone from useful, to just plain _powerful_.

She was now addressed as 'Master' Katara.

But to Sokka, she was still the little blue eyed girl that would squeak out his name in the dark when she was scared.

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They finally found Aang an earthbending teacher; a blind girl, called Toph.

She was rough around the edges, saying and doing crude and vulgar things all the time; at first, Sokka didn't get her at all. She was always saying things that weren't helpful, that were funny, sure, but didn't actually benefit them. However, what he did know, was that she was a powerful bender, and was the only one who seemed to match Katara's iron will and fiery temper when the occasion called for it.

They fought a lot; him and Toph, Katara and Toph. But in the end, they were always laughing, like the hurtful things they yelled didn't mean any more than the number of clouds in the sky. Toph made them laugh when they had no reason to, made them feel like everything was just moon-peachy perfect when really, it was disastrous, horrendous, abysmal, just plain _shit_.

Sokka didn't understand Toph at first, but when she talks about her parents, he does; quirky comments and vulgar language aside, Toph was a kid. Toph was like them; having to juggle the fact that the world wanted everything from them all at once, her parents included. Sokka realized, upon meeting Toph, knowing Toph, seeing Toph, _feeling_Toph, that having both parents does not equal perfection.

Families come in all shapes and sizes; this one, in his view, was perfect.

But the perminant frown on Katara's expression tells him otherwise.

Maybe there was something missing, here.

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Katara's strength and courage surprises him, baffles him, every damn time.

Whether it's grabbing onto his hand whilst he's off in a day dream, a consequence of drinking some strange juice from a cactus they found in the desert, or holding Aang with her hand laying over his new scar on his back, pressing a little drop of water there before flipping him over and cradling him like her child. Sokka's watching her with his heart in his throat, his sweaty hand clasping Toph's like it's the last thing he has left.

When Aang's eyes open, his weak smile broadening at the sight of Sokka's sister, he watches her in bewilderment; he didn't know what she did, how she did it, whether she could ever do it again, but she did it. But he has this feeling in his chest that Katara isn't just crying about Aang as she holds him; he thinks that maybe something happened in the Crystal Catacombs. Something that upset her in a way that he can't understand.

He later learns that Prince Zuko, or should he say, _ex-_Prince Zuko, has something to do with it.

Sokka decides he _despises ex-_Prince Zuko._  
_

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It is only when Aang wakes up and runs away does Sokka realize he failed as a big brother.

He failed a long time ago.

Katara is crying into her knees as she sits at the deck of the ship, the water licking the side of the metal boat, threatening to tip it over every time her sobs get a little louder. He holds her and holds her for as long as she wants him to, before she goes off, numb and bitter as she shuts the door of her bedroom. She should've given up ages ago, but she hasn't - she's there, surfing the seas minutes later, because Katara _never gives up_.

Sokka thinks this is mainly because she just doesn't know how to. She was the sword, and he was the shield, but he wasn't doing his job.

Only when Aang wakes up and runs away does Sokka realize he can't shield his baby sister from everything.

Or, at least, not alone.

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When she becomes the Painted Lady, when she pulls about bodies without their consent, he understands.

He really does, even if she doesn't think so.

He said about a year ago that Katara went from useful to powerful; well, now, she was going from powerful to something else, but Sokka didn't want to say it. She used to cry and shout and scream and whip people away with water when things were difficult, when things were too unfair for Katara to deal with; but things were different now. Something changed in her, something Sokka knew couldn't be reversed.

As her eyes harden, pressing Hama's body to the ground under the light of the moon, Sokka understands.

Katara went from useful, to powerful, to _deadly._

And he understands it, he really because; she has to do this. She has to make herself into a deadly, merciless weapon because war was looming upon them, threatening to take more from her, to take what she had left, to take all that she loved and cared about and worked for. And even though it was horrible, crushing the hearts of the people who tried to interfere, she had to do it.

She had to do it for her family.

Sokka recalls upon his thought as a teen - motherhood is a truly powerful thing, isn't it?

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When Zuko is there, at their doorstep, begging to come in, no one wants to stab him in the throat more than Sokka.

Well, excluding one.

He never thought his baby sister Katara could hate anything, but when he sees the way she looks at Zuko, he second guesses it. He guessed that whatever happened in the Crystal Catacombs hurt her in a way that wasn't totally legible to anyone who wasn't her, or Zuko; excluding everything the ex-Prince did to everyone else, this alone is reason enough for Sokka to hate him with her, more so than everyone else.

Zuko manages to make his way in, regardless, and Sokka hears Katara lay down the rules when he is assigned a room; and he knows that she means every single word of it. One move was enough to have his heart crushed in the palm of her hand, and Sokka hoped Zuko took it seriously, for Katara has done it before. She crushed a few hearts without anyone's knowledge.

Katara crushed hearts, hoping that her shield, that her big brother would say nothing to Aang, and he didn't.

Katara did what she did for her family. Sokka always reminds himself of that.

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After a few weeks of Zuko being slaughtered by Katara's words, he comes to him, to her big brother.

Sokka doesn't quite know what to make of it at first, but something in his gut tells him that he should help Zuko prove someone else gives just as much of a shit about Katara than Sokka does. Not that Aang and the others didn't, but not in the same way. Sokka decided to follow his gut, since it usually knew best; Zuko and Katara left with Appa one night. She was cold, she was ruthless, she was at her own cross roads.

When they came back, three nights later, she was cold; she was ruthless.

But she started _hugging _Zuko, _laughing _with Zuko, _talking _with Zuko, _being _with Zuko.

It's not the same as how she hugs and laughs and talks and..._'is'_ with everyone else. This time it's different, and Sokka can see it in the way she looks at him; and even worse, he can see it in the way Zuko looks at her. He turns a blind eye to the fact that they talk long into the night, yawn and joke about it the next morning, stand and hug each other when they think no one else is watching, in a way no one else can hug them.

Surprisingly enough, Sokka sees himself as lucky; he aided the _right _boy into making his baby sister laugh again, smile again, return again.

And for this alone, Sokka is in Zuko's debt for a long, long time - not that he knows it, of course.

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Sokka was frowning a lot lately - Toph snickered at the reason why, lacing her fingers with his.

It's because he knows what sneaking around looks like, for he's done it many times (with a nameless, blind earthbender, mind you); and he doesn't like what he sees in Zuko and Katara's smirks, because it means that they're sneaking around too. However, _Sokka _has limits, for _Sokka's 'acquaintance'_ was thirteen. Katara, however, was 15; and Zuko was 17.

This meant that they didn't have as many _limits _as Sokka had.

The only good thing that comes of it, though, is that Katara's almost _always_ smiling if Zuko's there; even when they're fighting, which is a lot more often that you'd think, the corners of her mauve lips are being tugged upwards without her consent. Zuko always smiling, too, and he's a guy that hardly _ever _smiles; he sighs all the time, like he's content, like he has everything, like she's all he needs.

This eases Sokka's doubts or concerns, because this implies that they are just as sincere as he is with his own..._acquaintance. _

However, for every action, there is an equal or opposite reaction.

Aang is saddened, because Katara's smiles aren't his fault, but Zuko's.

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Time, much like hope, is a strange thing.

They were all born in war, and thought they would die in war, so it's difficult trying to live your life without it. It's sort of like an addiction; waking up in the middle of night, thinking it's your turn to be the lookout. Reaching for your boomerang every time you hear a strange, out of the ordinary sound. Saving stupid things like thread and spare copper pieces, thinking it will come in handy one day, when you least suspect it.

When Sokka turns 20, he realizes he still doesn't have the hang of it just yet, this whole 'living' thing; but it's okay, because none of them do. Toph smiles at his impatience when he talks about it, kissing his jaw just like he does to her every morning when they wake up together. She says some quirky and rude comment that has him laughing at the sunset, and it doesn't seem so bad.

There are always going to be things you'll never back; like deceased mothers, friends, girlfriends, the ability to look out into stars and not think about the people and places you've seen fall right before your eyes - people and places you loved, people and places you cared about. But the world turns, and Sokka learns, slowly but surely, just like everyone else, that we must turn with it.

Besides; there are some things that never change, some things that you never loose.

Like seeing your little Avatar brother learn to love again, with someone else, with someone who can reciprocate _properly. _Like seeing your people pick up the pieces of their village and start again, for the _better_. Like seeing a once cruel nation say sorry and actually _mean _it, helping sweep away the debris they caused so that flowers can be planted instead.

Like the love and the smiles of his baby sister, Katara, who managed to find herself admits the mess, just like he knew she would, all along.

Though with difficulty, they did their job; she was the sword, and he was the shield.

But even to this day, _they still are_ - healing is a battle too, you know.

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Sokka has known Katara all his life.

He grew up with Katara, played with Katara, learned from Katara, protected Katara, supported Katara. At 25 years old, he still looks at her and sees the face of his newborn baby sister; he knows that in decades time, he'll still see her that way. It's not his fault, it's on purpose, it's just the way that big brothers are programmed to work.

Amongst everyone's screaming rejections, Zuko, Katara and Sokka remained silent. Zuko and Katara sat next to each other in the middle of the tent, the very tent Sokka and her had grown up in, the very tent they had to purge of blood after the death of their mother. They sat with their shoulders touching, cradling their bowl of soup, keeping their eyesight cast down on it.

Katara wore a new necklace; red pendant, navy ribbon.

Tpph snickered with glee in Sokka's arms.

The elders objected.

Hakoda lectured.

They all, at some point, realized Sokka said nothing; which was very, very unusual, especially given the circumstances. They all watched him in dead silence; Sokka could hear Zuko gulping in worry. He turned to look at his sister's face; the same big blue eyes, peering at him in worry and concern, because _his_ was the only opinion that actually meant anything to her. _His _was the only opinion that she cared about.

He was her big brother, her shield. What was she supposed to do without him?

How was she supposed to get married without his blessing?

"Do you love him?" Sokka asked his sister plainly.

She blinked, blushing, glancing at Zuko beside her; she tried to contain her small smile, but was doing a poor job at it. She looked down at her soup for a second, her smile so small, so real, and Sokka realized he hadn't seen her smile this way in the longest time. Everyone watched her expectantly, Zuko in particular; he towered over her even as he sat beside her, gazing.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Sokka turned to Zuko (warning him a little). "Do you love her?"

Zuko blinked. "More than everything - anything." he said, like it was obvious (which it was).

Sokka shrugged. "Then don't have the wedding in June; it's too hot and I hate the caterpillar-flies in the Fire Nation."

Everyone erupted with objections, and Sokka just yawned sucking up the rest of his noodles in the stew as he slung an arm over the grinning Toph, yawning with his mouth open as he said something about wanting seconds. Zuko and Katara sighed in relief, and the waterbender gleamed at her brother, looking right into the blue eyes she shared with him, saying so many things above the ruckus just with that one look.

Sokka smiled back at her, in a way only a brother can.

He gave Zuko a flat stare, making him gulp - Katara laughed and laughed into her fiancee's shoulder.

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Whilst Toph is bearing his daughter, Sokka waits outside not-so-patiently with his 3 year old son.

He _wanted _to be with her whilst she was delivering, but Katara advised him against it, since he didn't handle births very well (having fainted when his son was born) and that if Toph were to injure him, she wouldn't have time to heal what she knew would be a ghastly wound. Sokka gulped as he propped up Teiko higher in his arms; his son huddled close to him, lips pursing at the sound of his mother's screams.

They decided to name their daughter Lin - Teiko kept saying her name over, and over again once he was given her to hold.

Sokka had an arm over Toph, stroking the side of her cheek as he watched his son hold his baby daughter, and Katara watched from the foot of the bed as she cleared up, a smile playing at her lips. Her abdomen was already swollen carrying what she said were to be bending twins, and Zuko was there, too, fretting over her because of it, nagging at her to sit down, though she ignored him.

"This is your baby sister, Tei," Sokka whispered into his son's ear, stroking his ear. He looked up at Katara. "She's your baby; she needs you. She needs you to look after her, to protect her. She needs her big brother to help her, to keep her safe. She loves her big brother the most."

Teiko looked up his father for a second, before looking back down at Lin again.

"Li-nn," Teiko whispered, staring down at her. "Li-in."

Katara watched, her eyes smiling as well as her mouth; she looked at her brother, and her brother looked back at her as she rested a hand on her swollen stomach, much like Zuko was doing as he attempted to guide her to a chair in worry of her.

"She's an earthbender." Katara said softly, looking over at her niece. She gave into Zuko's pleas, sitting down on a chair slowly, holding onto Zuko's forearm for support, as to not strain her growing children inside of her. Zuko knelt in front of her smiling in relief that his wife was finally listening to him and sitting _down_, kissing the top of her bump gently. He then kissed her coffee coloured cheek, withdrawing a smile from her.

Katara's eyes darted to Sokka. His smile broadened at his baby sister.

He leaned down and whispered into his son's ear again. "She's the sword, Teiko - and you're the shield."

"You're a team." Katara smiled.


End file.
